Thursday, November 29, 2007


I took this of Photographer Frank Petronio over the last spring, the first time he shot me. I came out to shoot with him today and I'm pretty excited to have new photos by him. We did the whole Hotel thing, which I'm new at so I'm down (like syndrome?). Can't wait to see them, and on top of that, this shoot has gotten me rekinddled to go and shoot with more photographers. I'm so picky, though, I only want cool and talented people to shoot me, which I think is just dandy.

I have a job interview at a cafe tomorrow... or, not really an interview, I already have the job through a friend, I just have to meet the owners. I have to start making mad loot so I can travel and prove to these dumbass photographers that I'm worth shooting.

Frank compared moving as a model on your own to a dance. Click, change.. click, change. I could do this forever, and doesn't it make me feel pretentious? Is it so silly to want to be part of it. "It". Sometimes I think I should just hang up the Model Meagan and go to school for something practical, but I can't think of anything I'd rather do. Cultural anthropology? Riligious studies? Fuck, I think I can impact someone through photography, but I guess it just comes down to what makes me happy. Besides, that's what Mommy always taught me, find a job that you're happy doing. I'm retarded happy modeling.

Sunday, November 25, 2007

Miss Bohling

This photo is by Jaime Bohling, about three years ago. My first year in college and one of my suitmates at the dorm happened to be an awesome photography major. She is still one of my favorites, though rarely shoots anymore, which is sad. It was really cold this day, and we had a bus full of kids pass by, haha. She's really great though, I love her style.

Anyway, It's been brought to my attention of what a bitch I come across as. Instead of looking at me like I'm a terrible person, does anyone wonder maybe I have a lot of shit going on? Sure I shouldn't take it out on people, but I don't mean to, anyway. Oh well, I chalk it up to growing up, though not lightly.

It also surprises me to find the difference of people who look at photography and modeling. Or better, they way people look at them. I don't think many people understand that to get a great image, you have to have a talented photographer and a talented model who share an idea or concept. I've never failed to walk away with awesome images when those things are in place.

It also makes me so sad when I never get my images. I put my heart and soul into modeling, I love it more than anything. To think that a photographer would just take that away from me after I already gave him/her my passion, time, talent, whatever... it's heartbreaking and angering. I feel cheated. I hate cheaters.

Wednesday, November 21, 2007


This is Andrea.

I took this last spring, I think. I remember all the preparation it took. I seem to also remember leaves, so maybe it was spring. A year ago. I had to coordinate a piercer to throw hooks in her arms and back, borrow a camera from a friend, find a time when I could use another friend's apartment because he had this sweet tub with the oval curtain rod where I could string Andrea up.

Lastnight, I had a long talk with her at two am. Somewhere down the line I forgot that while she has a passive, dry and sometimes cold acting outer personality, she's such a good and caring friend. It comes down to all the chaos in my life right now, she brought to my attention some things I needed to hear. Truth hurts and all that shit.

Tonight is the biggest night for clubs and bars. Everyone's home for Thanksgiving and ready to not be home, to go get blasted with their home-town buddies and sleep till noon and eat themselves to sleep.

I, however, am the only one at the bar who doesn't have an actual shift. I get to go to Herkimer (a small town outside of Utica, it takes me a half hour to drive there from my house on the other side of Utica. There are two Holly rocks, one there and one in Utica. Utica is bigger, so that's where you want to be. Obviously) and be backup for a girl... IF she needs me, if she doesn't, I go back to Utica and do what I want. Which probably means getting cranked myself.

Though I've decided to use today for a photo Journalism project, six picture spread. You know, for the class I haven't attended in over a month. But I'm still enrolled so I figure I'll do some projects and hand them in, see how it goes over. Besides, it gets me out wiht my camera, and that's good.

Good luck to all ya'll. Happy Gettin Fucked Up Day.

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

Goodbye Again, Prosper

This is Prosper.

I took this last winter, I think. I remember it was for a "window light portrait" assignment and there was snow. It's the only time I could get him to pose for me.

It's funny how people act in front of the camera. So many people freeze up and don't act themselves until you shove the lens in their face a few dozen times.

He looks exposed, doesn't he? A deer. Some part of him wanting to be remembered a certain way. All this does for me is remind me of all the shit and arguments we went through, doesn't make me remember the good times. That hard line of his mouth just screams "I am Someone" but his eyes look vulnerable. To me, at least. Maybe it's just because I know him.

Three years of knowing him and nothing has changed. Same questions, same comments, same arguments, same jokes.

Some people don't know what friendship means.

It's a confusing thing, knowing someone.

Day of Sleeping

I've been sleeping all day.
I dyed my hair brown and red. It just looks dark, with a tint of burgandy at the ends and the blue showing through a bit here and there. It was supposed to be dark orange tips. Guess I shouldn't have fucked with my hair and left it blue. Oh well, I didn't want roots anymore. I'm sure I'll change my mind about my hair in a month, anyway.

Thanksgiving is coming up, who wants to invite me to dinner? haha

The above photo was done by Reno ( ) somewhere in Brooklyn. It's my favorite photo of Melody and I, though not many people have taken up the chance to shoot us. I wish more would.

blah blah blah

"before you know it, it's four am and you're drunk."


Friday, November 16, 2007


James' photos of me are the only ones who make me think a real "fuck you". Like suddenly because I'm naked, I have more to work with, and with that sort of baring skin, may as well bare something else too. Hell, if I can't get people to listen with my clothes on, maybe I'll try it with my clothes off. I guess a big part of why I think it's a "fuck you" is because I actually want to pursue modeling, and I've been led to believe that if you do art noods then yer jest effing fecked for "real" shit. Well guess what, I'll do it all and I'll do it proud.

Here are my tits. Or one of them, as the case may be. God forbid.

So, in my lashing out to find some definition for myself, to change my life drasticly, I think I'll start by dying my hair back normal and taking out my lip rings. Instead of shoving how I feel in people's faces, I'll keep to myself. More listening, less talking.

Ahh, growing up is a pain in my ass.

Who am I kidding.. I just think this photo, and others here and there (that just so happen to be with my clothes off) feel more me, to me.

Someone make me stop thinking, it's starting to drive me nuts just a tad. I'm so obsessed with photos, people and words.

Post Two

I think it's becoming a normalcy for me to be obsessed with nude photos when I'm going through change. In this photo, I sit on my dirty kitchen floor which is a tag gross, but I guess that's why I like it. Puts a new spin on dirty cooch, haha.

Yeah I know, I'm not that funny... Shutthefuckup. :)

In other news...

I've just returned from work, a grueling night at the bar, hours filled with doing nothing. I turned on the Discovery channel for a while. Some guy from Paramount Pictures came in, of course I didn't know this till later. He sat down and ordered a beer, asking me if it's always this cold here. I told him it'd get a lot colder, and asked him where he was from. Los Angeles. Laughing, I asked why he was here.

"Business" he says.
"Isn't that the only reason someone would come here from LA?" He laughed. We got to talking.

Now, within a few minutes of a man talking to me, I've got them pretty well pegged. He avoided talking about himself, asked me questions about what I was doing with my life, made great eye contact and had a pretty watch. So I laid it down real good for him. Told him my goals, dreams and plans. He ate it up, which is good. Thank god I still have charm with blue hair to strangers from LA. Not that I think this guy can actually help me out anywhere, but it's good practice. You never know. He was nice, though.

I digress.

None the less, I can't figure out how to get a little icon on my about me section, which makes me feel dumb. But I did tweek the HTML, which makes me feel un-dumb. Though it's still not quite how I want it. I wish I could know everything. haha

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Post One

After looking at James Graham's blog for months, I've decided to create my own. He took this photo a few months ago. I am quite obsessed with his style.

The first bit of my life that I'll share is quite trivial. I have two cats, a boy (Pan) and a girl (Artemis). They look just alike, and are brother and sister from the same litter.

Pan is laying in my lap between my stomach and my laptop right now, purring excessively and spreading his legs for me to pet his tummy. He's the Whore kitty, but I love him for it. Artemis gives me love in the morning, when my alarm goes off, or any time I'm just waking up. They like to stalk bugs, birds outside the windows, and the water while the shower is running. They wish they were turkish vans, though pretty near have heart attacks if the water comes up and jumps at them. Pan fell in the tub earlier, it was fucking hilarious.

My sister thinks I'll be an old cat lady. I wouldn't mind.

(it is raining. I love the rain)